The elk fell with a weak bellow, collapsing as its legs buckled beneath it. A hooded figure darted out from the shadows of the small clearing and crouched beside the beast in the snow. The elk's breath rose in hot clouds from its nostrils as its chest heaved around the arrow piercing the heart that lay within. Tentatively, the figure extended a hand from beneath the heavy cloak that shrouded them and rested it upon the fading warmth of the elk's thick neck. The beast snorted and kicked, causing the figure to rock back onto their heels. Soon it could cling to life no longer, and its eyelids drooped slowly as its breathing gradually slowed to silence.
"Rest, now. It's alright."
The figure's silvery voice was soothing, even though the words that they spoke were punctuated with panting breaths. The hand once again rested on the beast's neck, and this time it allowed the harmless touch. The elk's head dropped, its twisting antlers now seeming one with the equally gnarled roots of the tree that jutted over the two creatures and pierced the white sky. As the figure's gaze travelled up the length of the trunk a strong gust of wind whipped through the forest, shaking snow from the leaves of the trees and lifting the hood away from the face of the lone hunter. A woman's face was revealed, swarthy and angular against the softness of the white landscape surrounding her. There was a softness to her cheeks that betrayed her youth, but a wise twinkle in the pair of raincloud grey eyes that sat above them which told otherwise. Sigyn tutted and tugged the hood of her cloak back over her unkempt dark hair.
"Did you really have to wander so far?" Sigyn scorned the elk as a parent might scorn a bad child; "Now I have to drag you through the river."
Above her head, a crow croaked out a greeting. She squinted up at the bright sky, and could just about see its black form perched on a branch amongst the oppressive white. It appeared to be watching her intently, and the thought made Sigyn laugh.
"Are you? Are you watching me?" She teased. The crow cawed in reply and tilted its head. A frown came upon her face - as odd as it seemed, there was something humanlike about it. Perhaps it was that it stared at her unfalteringly. After a moment, the crow hopped down from its high perch and came to rest on a thin branch just feet above her head. Minding the elk but never quite breaking eye contact with the bird, Sigyn strode up to the branch. The crow did not move, nor did it look away. It sat perfectly still and patient.
"You're a funny bird."
The crow clacked its beak. The sound carried in the silent forest, wisping through the trees in such a way that it reached her as laughter. It was ridiculous, of course, to be talking to a crow. Especially when the sunlight was fading fast and Sigyn had to drag the elk back to her home before the wolves came out for the night's hunt.
"Is what the village people say true? Did Odin send you?"
The crow screeched in indignation and ruffled its feathers at her.
"I suppose not, then. Sorry." Sigyn shook her head and stepped back. The snow crunched and sank beneath her boots as she bent down and lifted the hind legs of the elk onto her right shoulder. The bird, now at the foot of the tree, hopped forwards and croaked again.
"Well, I'd love to stay and chat, but I have to get this beast home."
Caw. Sigyn glanced at the crow from beneath her hood and cocked an eyebrow.
"Follow me if you like me so much."
With that, Sigyn hoisted the elk up so that only its head and front quarter were still left in the snow. The antlers gouged the snow as she began to drag the carcass along. The arrow was still buried in its chest to stop the blood from gushing out into the snow and leaving a trail for a wolf or bear to follow - Sigyn didn't want to wake up to a set of fearsome jaws clamping around her skull or claws swiping at her chest. The cold had numbed her face and hands so that she no longer felt the sting of it, but occasionally a gust of wind would catch her off-guard and send a shiver straight through to her bones. Sigyn's pace was slowed significantly by the weight of the elk, but still she persisted, her boots sinking over and over again into the yielding snow that blanketed the ground entirely. Every so often a flurry of powder would fall from the tree branches that were unable to sag under the weight of it any longer and fly into her face, but she only blinked it out of her long lashes and carried on striding ahead. A steady, slow song occasionally appeared upon her lips in a low hum, but never in words for between the cold and the physical exertion she had little breath to spare. Each note that managed to struggle out pierced the muffled silence, competing only with the steady slide of the elk's body against the ground. But quickly, quicker than she thought, the steady gush of water joined them. Sigyn staggered over the crest of the hill and looked gratefully upon the river before her. Cracked chunks of ice floated upon its surface - a sign of the coming winter - and the flow of the water was made sluggish by them. Soon there would be little daylight to hunt by, and the forest would freeze and become bitter with the chill. Sigyn let the elk's legs drop, rested her back against the trunk of a pine tree and fished through the bag hanging loosely at her hip for the last chunk of bread that remained. So close to the pine, she could still just sniff out the sharp scent of its resin among the strange but unmistakeable smell of frost. Or, not so much a smell as a lack of it, an intense nothingness made cutting by the cold it carried.
As Sigyn chewed on the meagre morsels of stale bread, she looked out over the path ahead. The most difficult part would be crossing the river with the carcass. It may not be deep, but the current is strong and the water frigid. After that there is only a short walk to where she has made her home.
A rough chirrup behind Sigyn made her look around. She almost choked on the last mouthful of bread when she met the crow's black eyes.
"How in...?" Again, the chattering beak which so sounded like laughter. "Why are you following me?"
The crow tilted its head and blinked before cawing.
"I can't...I don't understand that. What do you want? Are you hungry?"
Sigyn slowly reached into the bag at her side. The crow flapped its wings, and she took this as an answer in the affirmative. She knelt down and lay a handful of breadcrumbs on the exposed root of the pine tree, and no sooner had she removed her hand than the bird's beak was pecking furiously at them.
Of course the creature was hungry - weren't they all? Sigyn brushed her hand off on her trousers as she stood back up and hoisted the elk back onto her shoulders. As she dragged the carcass down the hill, she occasionally glanced back, but the crow followed her no further.
When Sigyn stepped into the river and pulled the elk along with her, a fluttering sound made her turn her gaze back one last time. From beneath the hood of her cloak, she watched a small black form rise into the sky and disappear in a flurry of wings.
YOU ARE READING
Everlast
FantasyA re-imagining of Norse mythology. Sigyn survives alone in the forests of the beautiful but harsh environment of Scandinavia. Stolen from Asgard as a child and all but forgotten by her people, she is unaware of her heritage and of the existence that...